Ensemble

When summer vacation was halfway over, the cicadas seemed to have gotten tired of singing. Their calls were no longer as hysterical as in July, but became intermittent, like an old man with a hoarse voice talking to himself.

The training camp has begun.

When the birds went out, the sun was already high in the sky, making the asphalt road surface soft.

Since there was no need to wear a school uniform during summer vacation, Asuka chose a white short-sleeved shirt and light blue shorts for herself, tied her hair into a ponytail, and finally took the white sun hat from the coat rack by the door and put it on her head.

The hat has a small brim and a large "S" printed on the front; it was a hat I picked out at the end of summer for my birthday this year.

At the time, Hua Hua complained, "Why do you two always pick out each other's gifts?" Fei Biao insisted, "The ones he picked aren't nice, so I'll just make do with them." But he wore them every time he went out during the summer vacation.

Her mother called from the kitchen, "Be careful on the road." She responded and went out with her drumstick bag on her back.

As I walked to that familiar corner, Xia Mo was already standing there.

He had changed into casual clothes, wearing a dark gray T-shirt and black shorts, with faded canvas shoes on his feet.

He carried the oboe box on his back and wore a black sun hat on his head, exactly the same style as Asuka's, only the color was different, with a large "X" printed on the front.

He and Asuka picked out the two hats together at the same store. On Asuka's birthday, he hesitated for a long time before choosing black and white – the white one for Asuka and the black one for himself.

"Good morning." Fei Niao walked over.

"Good morning." Xia Mo glanced at her, her gaze lingering on the white hat on her head for a moment, then looked at the black hat she was wearing, without saying anything.

The two walked side by side toward the school. There were far fewer students on the road than usual. Occasionally, a few club members in sportswear would rush past, their shoes making a slapping sound as they hit the pavement.

The sound of cicadas wafted over from the trees by the roadside, like someone playing a violin that never stops from a very, very far away place.

"How's your oboe practice going?" Asuka asked.

Xia Mo didn't answer immediately. He took a few steps, kicked a small pebble by the roadside, and watched it roll into the ditch.

"You promised to come and practice with me," he said in a nonchalant tone, "but you've been here for two days and then gone off to play with Hua Hua, leaving me all alone at home."

The bird paused for a moment.

"That's...that's because your house is too boring!" She turned her face away, raising her voice by half an octave.

"You're locked in your room practicing the oboe, while Hua Hua and I are sitting in the living room doing absolutely nothing, not even daring to raise our voices. What's wrong with us going out for a walk?"

"I didn't say no." Xia Mo's tone remained indifferent. "I was just venting."

Feiniao's ears turned red. She wanted to argue, but Xia Mo was telling the truth—on their first day at his house, they had indeed stayed quietly in the living room.

The two of them slipped out shortly after the next day and spent half an hour browsing in a convenience store before returning.

The third day was even more outrageous; she went straight to the shopping mall near the station and spent the entire afternoon there. When she returned, Xia Mo had already finished practicing the piano and was cooking.

"Anyway... we're doing this for your own good," Asuka's voice trailed off, "and you'll blame us for bothering your practice."

Still being stubborn.jpg

"When did I ever mention you?" Xia Mo said.

The two walked in silence for a while. When they passed the row of cherry blossom trees, the cicadas on the trees suddenly fell silent for a moment, as if someone was directing them.

"You've practiced the piece enough," Xia Mo suddenly said.

The bird turned to look at him.

"The piece that Mr. Tanaka gave us, it was our summer homework." Summer's tone was calm. "I can play it completely now, but there are still a few notes that are a bit unsteady."

Asuka paused for a moment. She remembered the piece—the solo that Mr. Tanaka had handed to Natsume in the staff room; the notes on the score weren't very dense.

But she didn't expect that Xia Mo would actually finish training in just over a month.

"So fast?" she blurted out.

"I'm not happy," Xia Mo said. "I practice for several hours every day. If I still can't play it after practicing for so long, I should get my IQ checked."

The bird opened its mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again.

She looked down at her white canvas shoes, the laces tied a little too tightly, making her insteps swell. She remembered her box of reeds—it had been lying in the deepest part of her schoolbag for over a month, and she still hadn't given it away.

"Why don't you ask me how my training is going?" Asuka suddenly asked.

Xia Mo glanced at her: "Did you practice during the summer vacation?"

"So you don't care whether I've improved or not?"

"You'll improve even if you don't practice," Xia Mo blurted out.

"...smooth-talking."

The bird turned its face away angrily.

Xia Mo didn't say anything more, but the corners of his mouth curved slightly.

Turns out, guys can hold grudges too.

We've arrived at school.

During the summer vacation, only one of the school gates was open. The security guard was sitting in the guard room reading a newspaper, with the fan whirring.

As Fei Niao and Xia Mo walked in, the campus was unusually quiet. The playground was empty, with only the soccer goal standing there forlornly, its net billowing and deflated in the wind.

The two walked to the door of the activity room. Asuka reached out her hand and gently knocked on the door frame before pushing the door open.

"Sorry to bother you—" she said softly.

Xia Mo followed behind and also said, "Sorry to bother you."

The two pushed open the door and went inside. There were already seven or eight people in the classroom.

Kobayashi, who was assembling a small drum in the percussion section, nodded slightly in response to Asuka.

Over in the woodwind section, several senior clarinetists were testing their instruments. When Xia Mo came in, they nodded, and one of them quietly said "Good morning" before continuing to tune their instruments.

My gaze didn't linger on them—just another day in the ensemble club.

Xia Mo walked to the last row of the woodwind section and placed the oboe box next to the music stand.

Several members of the woodworking team glanced at him, said nothing, and looked away.

They all knew that Xia Mo had only been learning the oboe for one semester, so the intensive training wouldn't be easy for him.

Asuka sat down in the percussion section and placed her drumstick bag next to the timpani. She looked around and saw that people were gradually coming in; the ensemble members were almost all there.

Minister Yuka Morimoto was the last to rush in, holding a baton in her hand, her forehead covered in sweat, fanning herself as she said, "It's so hot, so hot."

Mr. Tanaka entered the classroom on time.

He was wearing a light blue shirt today, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his hair was combed neater than usual.

He was carrying a bulging briefcase, its contents unknown. He walked up to the command platform, placed the briefcase aside, and scanned everyone with his gaze.

"Is everyone here?"

Minister Mori counted the heads: "Everyone's here."

"Okay." Mr. Tanaka nodded. "Today is the first day of the summer training camp. The training camp will last for seven days, from nine in the morning to three in the afternoon each day, with a one-hour break at noon. After seven days, we will go through the entire competition repertoire for next semester."

The classroom fell silent for a moment. The competition piece—the one more difficult than anything they had practiced before.

"Let's warm up first." Mr. Tanaka clapped his hands. "Everyone, tune your instruments. We'll begin in fifteen minutes."

The activity room suddenly became lively. The brass section was applying oil and playing long notes, the woodwind section was testing the sound and adjusting the reeds, and the percussion section was checking the tightness of the drumheads. Fei Niao pulled down the dust cover of the timpani, stepped on the pedal a few times, pressed his ear to the drumhead, and tapped it one beat at a time, tuning it to the pitch he remembered.

Xia Mo stood at the back of the woodwind section, took the reed from the oboe case, soaked it in a glass of water for a minute, then assembled the tubes and applied cork plaster. His movements were much faster than a month ago, each step crisp and clean, as if he had done it hundreds of times.

Mr. Tanaka stepped down from the conductor's platform, walked around among the various sections, and paused briefly next to Natsume.

"Did you practice during the summer vacation?"

"I've practiced," Xia Mo said.

"Where's the piece?"

"You can blow it completely now."

Mr. Tanaka glanced at him, said nothing more, and turned back to the command post.

The warm-up ended after fifteen minutes.

"All ensemble." Mr. Tanaka raised his baton. "Let's go through it once, starting from the beginning of the third movement."

The bird gripped the drumsticks, waiting for the next measure. The sound of the timpani rolled out from the back of the classroom, deep and full, accompanying the prelude of the flute and clarinet, like a hand steadily supporting the entire melody.

Xia Mo didn't join the ensemble. He stood at the back of the woodwind section, holding his oboe, listening to the ensemble around him. His part wasn't in this ensemble—or rather, Mr. Tanaka hadn't let him in yet.

The flute began, followed by the clarinet, then the saxophone, and finally the brass instruments laid out behind. The various sounds intertwined, like a wide river flowing through the activity room. The timpani of a bird rolled steadily at the bottom of the river, supporting the ripples on the surface.

After the piece was finished, Mr. Tanaka put down his baton and nodded.

"Not bad. The rhythm is more consistent than last time, and the variations in dynamics are more apparent. But—"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone.

"The second trombone, the third measure started half a beat too early."

The person who was called lowered their head in embarrassment.

"Also, the woodwind section's sixteenth-note runs, make them cleaner. Don't muddy them."

After giving his comments, Mr. Tanaka remained silent for a moment, his gaze falling on the last row of the woodwind section.

"Late summer."

Xia Mo looked up at him.

"It's for next semester's final performance," Ms. Tanaka's voice wasn't loud, but everyone heard it clearly, "You want to participate too, right?"

The activity room fell silent for a moment. All eyes turned to the corner of the room.

Oboe. An oboe player who only studied for one semester. No one knows how long or how he practiced during the summer vacation—all they know is that he chose the most difficult instrument.

Some eyes were filled with curiosity, some with doubt, and some with the question, "Will this work?"

Xia Mo didn't hesitate. He looked at Mr. Tanaka and nodded.

"I want to participate."

"Okay." Mr. Tanaka nodded. "Play that song you practiced during the summer. Let everyone hear it."

He paused, his tone unchanged, but each word was spoken a little slower than before: "Solo performances are different from ensemble performances. If you play out of tune in an ensemble, there are others to help you. If you play out of tune in a solo, you're all alone, and no one can help you."

"Can you blow it?"

Looking into Mr. Tanaka's eyes, Xia Mo uttered only one word.

"able."

Mr. Tanaka didn't say anything more, turned and walked towards the door. As he passed the piano, he casually picked up the sheet music for that piece that he had already turned to on the piano shelf.

"There's a piano in the music room next door, let's go."

He was the first to leave the activity room. Xia Mo followed behind him, carrying her oboe. Fei Niao hesitated for a moment, then put down her drumsticks and followed—she was a member of the percussion group, but she didn't want to miss out.

Others followed one after another. The sound of hurried footsteps filled the corridor, and people were whispering among themselves.

"You've only been learning oboe for one semester, right?"

"How much can summer homework be exaggerated?"

"I don't know, let me hear it first."

The door to the music classroom was pushed open.

The old upright piano still leaned in its original spot, the afternoon sun shining obliquely through the window, falling on the black and white keys, making them look like a row of gleaming teeth.

Asuka knew this classroom all too well—it was where she and Xia Mo first met, and everything that started from here felt like it happened just yesterday.

Mr. Tanaka sat down at the piano, opened the sheet music on the piano stand, and looked up at everyone.

"This piece is called 'Life's Melody,'" he said. "It's the theme song Joe Hisaishi wrote for 'Howl's Moving Castle.' It's in triple meter, with a carousel-like feel. The melody is beautiful, but it requires a high level of breath control from the wind instruments."

He gently placed his hands on the piano keys, waiting for the end of summer to arrive.

Xia Mo walked to the center of the music classroom, raised the oboe to his lips, and put the reed in his mouth. He took a deep breath.

The first note flowed from the piano.

Feiniao stood at the doorway, not going inside, her hand loosening its grip on the drumsticks. Through the gaps in the crowd, she looked at Xia Mo's slightly furrowed brows and gently rising and falling chest.

The piano prelude unfolds slowly, like a watercolor painting slowly unfolding before your eyes.

The melody of triple meter, like a slowly turning carousel, carries one's thoughts to a very, very far place.

The image of Sophie gazing up at the moving castle on the grassland from the movie comes to mind, a transition from tranquility to noise, from loneliness to companionship.

Xia Mo closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Then, his oboe began to play.

When the first note came out, Asuka's shoulders trembled slightly.

It was a sound she had never heard before—it had transformed from a thin, raspy long tone into a textured, warm timbre.

The sound of the oboe breaks free from its body; it is not loud, but it is like a thin silver thread passing through the underlay of the piano.

The musical notes bounced out one by one, like a person walking slowly under the lights of a carousel, round and round.

The boy playing the clarinet in front of him unconsciously held his breath.

He'd been learning the clarinet for two years, and he knew all too well what that sound meant—

It's not about how perfect the technique is or how steady the breath is. It's about the voice. It has emotion, it has imagery, it has that desire to express the piece.

Feiniao leaned against the doorframe, watching the end of summer—something he had earned by locking himself in his room with the windows closed for the entire summer.

It wasn't because of the homework assigned by Mr. Tanaka, nor because of proving anything in the ensemble.

It was because he had promised someone that he would play the flute for her during his performance next semester.

The piano and oboe intertwine, pushing the melody to a climax before slowly fading away.

The last sound dissipated into the air. A drop of water fell into the deep pool, ripples spreading outwards until complete stillness.

The music room was silent for about three seconds.

No one speaks.

The boy playing the clarinet opened his mouth, then closed it again.

The senior flute instructor looked at Xia Mo with disbelief in her eyes.

Someone nearby whispered, "Not bad," the voice wasn't loud, but the tone was no longer skeptical.

Minister Mori stood next to Asuka, his hands on her shoulders, unable to suppress the smile on his face.

Wow, thanks to the Minister's discerning eye, we were able to discover such talent!

Ms. Tanaka stood up from the piano, turned around, and looked at everyone.

"How is it?" he asked.

No one answered. But no one shook their head either.

Mr. Tanaka looked at Xia Mo and nodded.

"Enter the ensemble."

Xia Mo put down the oboe, looked at Mr. Tanaka, her lips moved, but she didn't say anything.

But he gripped the dark brown instrument in his hand even tighter.

"The practice pieces will be adjusted accordingly," Mr. Tanaka returned to the podium, opened the sheet music, and said, "For the oboe part, 'Summer's End'—" He paused, ""In next semester's recital, the oboe will have a short solo. It's not the piece we're playing today; it's from another piece."

Xia Mo looked at Teacher Tanaka and nodded.

"Practice hard," said Mr. Tanaka.

Asuka stood at the door, watching as Natsume was surrounded by the woodwind group—the clarinet boy was asking him, "How did you practice that tonguing?", the flute senior was flipping through his sheet music, and President Mori patted him on the shoulder and said something.

She didn't push her way through. She pulled her white sun hat down further, covering half of her face.

The large "S" on the brim of the hat gleamed faintly in the afternoon sunlight.

She looked at Xia Mo, noticing his slightly reserved demeanor amidst the surrounding gazes of his classmates.

She suddenly wondered, what would his reaction be if she gave him that box of reeds right now?

It'll probably be that "thank you" again, followed by touching his ear.

Feiniao turned her face away, and the corner of her mouth curved slightly.

Although he was the one who stole the spotlight, he was also very happy.

The cicadas outside the window were quiet for a moment, then resumed their intermittent chirping. The August wind blew in through the window, carrying a hint of evening coolness.

The music classroom door was open, and people were packing up their instruments in the hallway, discussing what to have for lunch the next day, and carrying their backpacks toward the stairwell.

Feiniao stood at the door without moving, waiting for Xia Mo to finish packing. She clutched the strap of her schoolbag in her hand, rubbing it back and forth.

"Let's go." Xia Mo's voice came from behind.

Fei Niao turned around and saw that Xia Mo had already walked up to her, her oboe case slung over her back.

He glanced at her, then at the hat on her head, and said, "The brim is crooked."

Feiniao reached out and touched the brim of her hat; it was indeed crooked. Instead of straightening it, she twisted it a little more in the direction it was crooked.

"It was intentional," she said.

Xia Mo simply said "Oh" and didn't say anything else.

The two walked out of the teaching building side by side. The evening sky was dyed orange by the setting sun, and the soccer team's run had already begun on the playground.

The bird walked in front, and Xia Mo followed behind, with a half-step between them.

As they approached the traffic light where they were about to part ways, Feibiao suddenly slowed down, reached into the side pocket of her backpack, pulled out a small box, and shoved it into Xiamo's hand.

"For you."

Xia Mo looked down and saw—it was a box of reeds. Ordinary packaging, ordinary brand, unlike the box Hua Hua had given him.

"How-"

"I bought too much, we can't use it all." Asuka turned her face away. "If you don't want to use it, just throw it away."

Xia Mo looked at the box of reeds, remained silent for two seconds, and then put it in her pocket.

"Thanks."

The bird didn't answer. She quickened her pace and walked ahead, so he wouldn't see her expression.

Her ponytail swayed in the evening breeze, and the "S" on her white hat brim shimmered under the streetlights.

Xia Mo didn't chase after him. He followed behind, keeping that half-step distance.

Two hats, one black and one white, one with an "X" and the other with an "S", walked one after the other in the orange sunset.